A Touch of Destiny

Have you ever had something come into your life that you didn't expect but which turned out to be much more impacting than you realized?

For the last three years a pair of mourning doves (aka turtle doves) has taken up residence in the tree before my house. It is always the same pair. (I know because I've checked each year very carefully.) Their nest is large and strong, right at the top of the tree, and has housed ten broods. Never once has a single squab fallen from the nest.

What strikes me about these birds is the events that preceded and followed them. You see, the first day they flew into the area was the day after my brother died. This is interesting because doves are by far one of my father and I's favorite birds. My father has always seen doves as the harbinger of peace and will go out of his way to talk to a dove and take its picture when he sees one. And since their arrival coincided with the culmination of a very hard time for our family, we all took it as a sign... like the dove and the olive branch were to the ancient man Noah... that things were all right and there were good things to come.

But in the hours following their arrival, the doves quickly built a fortress of a nest and took up their permanent residence. Like clockwork they leave late every autumn and return late in the winter, never waiting till spring. They've even begun interacting with us a little bit.

Now for the clincher.

To be straight, I have zero belief in superstitions. Rabbits' feet, black bats, umbrellas, dream catchers, spilling the salt, stepping on a crack, the groundhog's shadow--all are rubbish. But there's one thing about these doves that I have not been able to ignore.

Every day that I wake up and hear them cooing, the day following has included some stroke of miraculous good fortune; when I wake up but don't hear them until after sunrise, the day has been mediocre; and when I don't hear them at all in the morning, something ill has followed for my family that day.

Like I said, I'm not a superstitious person, but even I can recognize a pattern from day to day. It is the strangest thing. The pair flew in yesterday to begin their fourth year here, and I woke this morning to find them cooing together on my window sill.

Whether I've finally found my superstitious weak spot or their presence really is an omen, I'll let you decide. But to me these delicate little birds are a sign, one I hope will stay for many years to come.